Reflections of a Ravenclaw
by Naiva
Summary: A story of trust, fear, the return of the Dark Lord, and Ella who is caught in the middle of it all.
1. Letter to Jayden

Disclaimer: I only own Ella and Jayden. Everyone and everything else is copyright to their respectful owners.

Reflections of a Ravenclaw

Chapter 1

It was silent outside the window despite the fact that it was a glorious summer day. The sky was a vibrant periwinkle blue that seemed to dwarf everything beneath it, but not a single bird could be seen flying across it. Most of the muggles who had settled in the neighborhood found the absence of animal life unnerving and never usually stayed more than a year. Ella's grandmother had only meant to drive away the birds with her curse on the house, but she saw the constant removal of the neighbor muggles as an added bonus.

No, not a single sound came through the open window of Ella's room. There was only the prickling sound of her quill as she wrote.

**Dear Jayden,**

**Hey, it's me. I can't believe it's already the end of July, I'm so glad. The sooner I get out of here the better. I think my mum is trying to drive me insane. She's invited at least three boys to dinner this week and last week it was four. Save me! She's trying to marry me off before I can get to my seventh year. I don't know how I'm ever going to finish all this homework with her pestering me all the time.**

Ella's quill paused over the last sentence. Knowing Jayden he had probably finished all of his work the day he got back home. _I really don't deserve to be a Ravenclaw prefect,_ she thought, smiling, _I'm so lazy._

What else was there to say? Ella thought a moment, but all she could come up with were more complaints. So she continued:

**Mum has also been scolding me a lot lately about being the first Ravenclaw in the family. You know how upset she was about that. She just won't let it lie and it's driving me crazy! "My grandmother would have disowned us! Thank God she's dead!"**

**Anyway, enough of my ranting…how are you? What was Italy like? I'm so jealous**!

Jayden's family went to a different country every summer. He would send her fabulous pictures and Ella would look in longing at the amazing places. Pyramids in Egypt, the Eiffel Tower, Niagara Falls; her desk drawers were stuffed full of the moving photographs. Her family never traveled farther than down the street. Of course, looking at things positively, Ella could think of a number of good reasons why she would never want to be in a foreign country with her mother. But, thinking positively was not in her blood.

**You have to send me more pictures of…** she began to write, but at that moment her bedroom door burst open.

"Lo' mum," Ella mumbled half-heartedly without turning around.

She heard her mother's sharp footfalls approaching and then the familiar sound of one foot tapping impatiently. Ella turned in her chair sullenly.

Araminta Meliflua, named after her mother, was a bony woman with large eyes and an almost wild look about her bushy black hair which was always tied back in a half-ponytail. She was the sort of person who tried very hard to be strict, but lacked the right countenance for the job. In fact, Araminta was not _smart_ enough for the job. She was calculating, yes, but not the brightest crayon in the box. Often times she just sounded stupid when giving people orders and expressing her opinions.

"I hope you're not writing to that muggle boy again!" she snapped, obviously in a bad mood.

"Mum! Jayden his _not_ a muggle! His _father_ is a muggle, there's a difference." Feeling defiant she added, "And I'd write to him even if he _was_ a muggle!"

Her mother narrowed her eyes. "Were you planning on wearing that this evening?" It was an old tactic of her mother's: when in doubt just find something to criticize.

"Well you laid it out for me so yes, I was planning on wearing it." said Ella, smiling, "What's put you in a bad mood?"

Araminta looked up and glared at the curtains hanging on the window beside Ella. Then her glance moved around Ella's room. "This room," she said, ignoring Ella's question, "I was always so disappointed with your choice of décor."

"Well, it is _my_ room," replied Ella lightly.

"Yes," said her mother distastefully. And then her eyes found what Ella had been hoping they would not notice. In a shadowy corner of the room was a neglected piece of furniture that was covered gloomily with a white sheet. The sheet was so coated in dust that it had turned a permanent shade of grey.

"What's this!" cried her mother, moving over to the corner. "Is this what I think it is?"

Ella stood up quickly, "Now, mum!"

"It's a crime to cover up such a beautiful piece like this!" she said sternly. Araminta's thin fingers reached out to the dirty sheet.

"Don't take that sheet off!" yelled Ella, but it was too late.

The sheet fell away to reveal a beautiful work of art. There sat the vanity. It was beautifully engraved of dark wood; carvings of angels played with banners up the curved legs while two snakes, blindfolded, slithered around the frame. Each snake held in its mouth a blood red ruby. Another snake framed the mirror, which was held in place by to brass moldings attached to the sides. This snake had its eyes wide open, blank, and staring. Ella looked away from her pale reflection quickly and shivered.

"Your great-grandmother gave you this," said her mother, "And I will not have it banished to the shadows."

"I've told you a million times that I don't want that thing." said Ella, sitting back down and turning to her letter.

"I'm really getting tired of this!" said her mother exasperatedly.

"You can have it if you like it so much!"

Her mother narrowed her eyes again, "You always were the odd one out in this family. I don't know what's wrong with you!"

"Alright, just because I didn't get into Slytherin like…" Ella began.

"It's not _just_ that!" wailed her mother as she shook her hands. "I don't know what to do with you!"

"Then do me a favor and don't do anything!"

There was a silence; the sort of silence that only comes between parent and child. Then the silence was broken.

"Tonight's off anyway." said her mother, finally. "There's been a sudden death."

"Thank goodness!" said Ella, "One less suitor!"

"You will be polite and respectable when speaking to me!" snapped her mother, "And I am happy to tell you that Jeffery is _not_ dead…"

_Damn!_ thought Ella…

"…it's your Uncle Luscious Malfoy."

"Not Draco's father?" asked Ella, surprised.

"Yes, your very _very_," Araminta pursed her lips, "distant and prestigious uncle is dead."

"So the aurors finally decided to ignore the minister and go after Mr. Malfoy anyway?"

"Ella!"

"Sorry," she said quickly, "But then…how did he die?"

"Oh I don't know!" said her mother is a disheveled way, "I just received an invitation to the funeral."

Ever since Voldemort had been defeated by Harry Potter two years ago, Luscious had taken his usual tactic of pleading innocence. To everyone's surprise, he had been whole-heartedly believed and supported by the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimjaw. However, most of the aurors had not believed him in the least.

"Well, have fun at the funeral! I'll see you when you get back." said Ella brightly, thinking that it would be nice to have the house to herself for a while.

Her mother chuckled, "You've been included in the invitation."

Ella sighed and bowed her head, resigned, as her mother continued, "It says 'It is the wish of my son, Draco, that your daughter, Ella, also attend the services' isn't that nice?"

"What?"

Draco had been in the class two years ahead of Ella and when they had been in each other's presence, which had, even in school been rare, he barely had anything to say to her. That is, unless he could find something to make fun of her about. _He was always a bit of a prat. _she thought. Now he invited her to his father's funeral.

"I wonder how Draco's taking it." she pondered aloud.

"He sent you a note as well," said Araminta with a conniving smile.

"Really? Let me see." Ella held out her hand for the note and her mother placed it there. The seal had already been broken.

"Mum!" said Ella at her mother's insufferable nosiness.

"I'll expect you packed by tonight!" said her mother turning to leave, "We leave for the Malfoy Manner tomorrow morning. I've rented a flying coach already."

"But mum," said Ella looking at the invitation her mother had left on the desk, "The invitation says that they won't expect us until Friday…that's three days away."

Her mother paused in the doorway, "I meant that." she said before rushing off to reschedule the coach.

Ella looked down at Draco's note. It read:

**I can't wait to see you again, it's been so long. You'll have to tell me about everything that's happened at Hogwarts since I've graduated. It will be nice to reminisce over old memories. See you there!**

**Draco Malfoy**

What did he mean "old memories"? They did not have any old memories and she did not think he could be talking about memories of his sixth year. Nobody who had been at Hogwarts at the time wanted to remember Draco's sixth year.

It was certainly a curious little note. Ella tried to look for any sarcasm that might be there, or maybe a threat or a teasing, but there did not seem to be anything like that. It was just…a note. _Well I suppose everyone has to grow up sometime._ she thought.

Looking up, Ella saw with a jolt that her mother had not put the sheet back over the lovely vanity. Ella stood up and squinted determinedly at her reflection there, moving closer to it. Then with a look of disgust she picked up the sheet and through it over the mirror. She felt a sort of tingling in her fingertips as she did so and knew that she had done the right thing to hide the mirror, no matter what her mother said.

Ella went back to her desk and looked at her letter to Jayden. It was sort and she had not had much to say, but now she was bursting to tell him a number of things. Finally she concluded her letter with:

**I think that things are about to get interesting…**

**Yours Forever,  
Ella**

AN/ Thank you very much for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	2. Draco and a Memory

Disclaimer: In chapter one.

AN: Enjoy chapter 2, please read and reveiw!...Rhyme not intended.

Chapter 2

Draco stood with his back to the bedroom door as he looked over his cloths that had been unpacked earlier by a house elf. He could not say that he was happy to be back in his old room, but at least it was clean. He wrinkled his pale, pointed nose at thought of staying at the inn in the village nearby. The Malfoy family had not slipped so low! His father's name had been held together by mere threads for the past few years, but he had never lost his money. Money was one thing that sacredly and unquestionably came along with the Malfoy family as well as extreme pride.

Squaring his shoulders and standing up a little straighter, Draco looked at the family crest on his ring. The pride of the family would live on forever! Now Draco only wished that his father could have lived on forever too.

As father and son they had never been extremely close, but Draco missed his father all the same. There has always been a certain connection between parents and their children, even if the two are as different as black and white. His father had always been there to tell him what he was doing wrong, but now that guidance was gone forever. Draco did not feel ready to be the head of the family. After all, he did not even have a steady job; he had spent the last two years trying to settle on one while living off of the family fortune.

All of that was about to change. He had inherited the Malfoy manner and suddenly had new responsibilities. Responsibilities that he had not even known came with such a large manner.

"Excuse me, sir." said a squeaky and nervous voice behind him.

"What?"

"Your mother, sir," said the house elf, "She wishes to speak with you."

"She can wait." said Draco.

"I'm afraid that she won't wait. She says it's urgent."

"Well if it's so urgent then she can come to me!" he nearly growled. He was not in much of a mood for his mother's coddling.

"No, Master Malfoy, my mistress keeps to her bed. She is too weak to move."

"But father's services," it hurt for him to say it, "are tomorrow morning!"

"She says she wishes to rest until then. Please come, sir," the tiny house elf moved in front of him imploringly, "please do!"

"What's the rush, I'll see her tomorrow. Leave me now…um…" he paused.

"Wilkins, sir." said the tiny elf.

"Go Wilkins, I have a letter to write." To prove it, Draco swept his robes aside and sat down on the desk chair, picking up his quill.

"Actually, sir, your mother wishes to know who you have been writing letters to for the past week."

Wilkins ran for cover as Draco stood up sharply and said, "Why, that nosy little bitch!"

"Please sir," stuttered the cowering house elf.

"Has she been watching my mail? I don't believe her! Why must she know _everything_? Can't I ever have a little privacy? That…that…"

"Sir, must you…?"

"Oh, don't you have some shoes to shine?" he bellowed, "Get out of here!"

Wilkins needed no second invitation. The little elf scampered out of the room, barely missing the kick Draco aimed at him.

Draco sat back down at pulled out his wand, drumming it rhythmically on the wood of the desk. That just took the cake! His own mother was spying on him! He wondered how long she had been watching his mail and a few green sparks shot from his wand tip, nearly igniting the table.

Well, it did not matter if she found out anyway! Tomorrow was the funeral and she would have her hands tied up with that. Yes the stuffy funeral would be filled with row upon row of family members and business men…and Ella. Yes, Ella would be there too, he had made sure of that. So, even if Mrs. Malfoy got wise there would be little she could do about it. Besides, he had made up his mind to do this and he was going to do it this time…no matter what his mother said.

Draco Malfoy would make his own choices!

۞۞۞

Ella had loved her grandfather very much.

"_What do you mean?"_

"_I mean what I said child, he died in the night."_

"_That's not true! I saw him yesterday, he's fine!"_

She had been utterly shocked to hear of his death, but to most six year olds death is unfathomable. How could someone be there one day…and then simply be gone the next? She had been shocked.

Merely a year after his death, Ella had a strange experience that would last in a hazy void in her memory forever.

"_Ow! Draco, stop poking me!"_

It was late at night and the house elves, who were busy in the kitchen, had not yet lit the candles. Mr. Malfoy had business with Ella's father and had brought Draco along. Ella was not pleased. It was dark, she was tired, and there was Draco!

"_Would you just stop it!"_

"_You're no fun to play with! Why don't you go have a tea party or something." The nine-year-old Draco looked around him sordidly, the beginnings of a smirk on his face._

"_What?" asked Ella, rubbing her shoulder where Draco had prodded it with his play broomstick._

"_What's in that room down the hall?" he pointed with his broomstick._

"_That's mum's room. We're not allowed in there!"_

"_Why not?"_

_Ella rolled her eyes, "Because it's my mum's room and she told me not to go in there. Besides, you wouldn't be able to see anything anyway. The house elves haven't lit any candles yet."_

_Draco snorted derisively, "I'm a wizard! I'll make my own light."_

"_You don't know how to do magic."_

"_Yes I do! I've got a wand and everything."_

"_Oh really? Well, prove it!" Ella raised her eyebrows and waited with mock patience. _

"_Well…" Draco stuttered, "I left my wand at home."_

"_A wizard would never leave his wand at home!"_

"_Yeah…well…who cares? Lets go."_

"_Go where?"_

"_Up there." He pointed up the stairs to an even darker passage._

"_There's nothing up there but my room. Besides, it's too dark; let's just stay here."_

"_Are you afraid?"_

"_Nuh-uh! Draco, it's my own house…"_

"_I bet you are! You're afraid of the dark!" Without another word, Draco bolted up the stairs._

_Ella was forced to go tailing after him yelling, "Draco, stop! That's my room, keep out!"_

_She reached the bottom landing and listened. There was no sound at all. Only darkness surrounded her. "Draco?" she whispered. There was no reply._

_Opening the door to her room, Ella was met with dim light falling through her window from the street outside. It gave the room a strange gray look. Shadows fell from all the furniture and toys that littered the floor. But, Draco was no where to be seen._

"_Draco?" she whispered again._

_Out of the corner of her eye, Ella thought she saw movement. "Ah-ha! I see you Draco!"_

_She turned, but the only thing that was there was her vanity that she had inherited from her great-grandmother. Or…_was_ that all? Ella squinted her eyes and then gasped. "Granddad?" _

_There he was, plain as day, his reflection smiling at her blandly. He was sitting on her bed holding their favorite book in his hands: _Robinson Crusoe. _"Granddad?" she whispered again, unbelievingly. The reflection nodded._

"_Granddad!" she yelled, turning away form her vanity to look at him. But, he was not sitting on her bed. In fact, he was not anywhere at all._

_Ella stood there in a state of consternation. She had seen him! He was just there, on the bed! Perhaps he was hiding. She moved forward, "Granddad?"_

"_Boo!"_

_Ella shrieked and toppled over as Draco pounced on her. "You were so scared!" he said, laughing, "You should have seen your face!"_

"_Draco! Where is he?"_

"_You can stop being a little chicken now, I'm here."_

"_Not you!" she yelled, standing up, "Granddad!"_

"_What? He died forever ago, don't you remember you silly little twat?"_

"_What did you do with him?" Ella felt positively insane. He had been there; just there. She knew it!_

"_Wha—?"_

"_Where's my Grandpa!" Without warning, she jumped on him. _

_It was terrible luck that Narcissa Malfoy chose that moment to enter the room. "What's this!" she snapped and Ella jumped off of her cousin instantly._

_Draco stood up and looked at her, frightened. "You're crazy!" he yelled before leaving with his mother._

_Ella glanced at the vanity and shivered. Her grandfather had been there, had _really truly_ been there. She knew it!_


	3. At The Malfoy Manner

AN: Almost 40 hits and no reveiws! It hurts. sob Please enjoy chapter 3 anyway!

Chapter 3

The clock on the wall read 10 o' clock in the morning. Below it was the door which stood open to a bright, sunny summer day in London. Ella, however, did not feel bright or sunny as she stood facing both clock and door. If life was fair at all, it would be raining outside and the funeral would have to be canceled. But, life was never fair, was it?

As she stepped outside, she slipped her hand into her pocket to make certain that her wand was there. Not that she would be able to use it, her 17th birthday was not until August 23rd, but it never hurt to be prepared.

The coach was parked on the pavement; the driver had nearly uprooted a bush in an attempt to park the strange vehicle, causing many of the muggle neighbors to stare out of their windows disapprovingly. It looked like a regular taxi, but for the pair of feathery wings that were folded, unseen, against the underside of the car. That, and the "headlights" would blink every once and awhile. It certainly did not look like the best mean of transportation, but, in Ella's opinion, anything had to be better than the Knight Bus.

There were children playing jump rope in the street, but they had paused their game to look at the precariously parked taxi. An old woman dressed in an oversized rain coat was passing by. The hand that gripped her cane had a nasty gash along it. A few teenagers were on the corner up the road and their break dancing music could be heard over the houses, beating to shake leaves from the trees. Ella tapped her foot to the rhythm as her love of dancing nearly possessed her to join the muggles. But, her mother would never approve of that.

Ella sighed. Her mother was already in the coach complaining to the driver about one thing or another. She turned her eyes onto Ella, who had not left the porch and shouted, "Come along girl!"

Obediently, Ella picked up her hand bag and climbed into the coach, taking a last glance at her narrow, ordinary-looking house. It looked cramped and tiny between the other grander houses beside it, which had always vexed her mother, but the magically modified interior was ten times bigger than any other along the street. Ella had never liked the idea that she was living in a house that deceived people, but it was home.

Ella's glance was cut short as the coach engine roared to life. After about three blocks of trundling down the street, the flying coach stopped, unfolded its wings causing the seats inside to lift about an inch, and took off into the air! London grew smaller under them until it disappeared entirely due to the large white clouds they had just passed through.

The clouds rolled out forever as though it was a fluffy white sea and the coach was some strange, yellow sea bird that would expel small puffs of smoke from its tail every once and a while. If Ella remembered correctly, the manner was hidden somewhere in the hills of Scotland the same way Hogwarts was. It was a long way down; she had never been fond of flying. She gripped her handbag, which contained Draco's note and invitation, closer to her as she stared out the window. Perhaps she would find a friendly face in the sea of disapproving family she was about to face.

۞۞۞

Draco yawned openly so that his mother could see the action from across the lawn. He had been greeting guests all morning on her orders and he was quite sick of it. Most of the people he greeted he had never even met except perhaps at one of the many dinner parties his parents used to throw._ But_, he supposed, _greeting guests beats talking with mum. If she doesn't stop asking me suspicious questions I think I'm going to scream! You'd think she didn't trust me. _Draco smirked inwardly.

Narcissa Malfoy had kept an eye on her son all morning, this was true. But, greeting guests had kept her occupied and away from him. For this, Draco was thankful.

"Mr. Swartz," said Draco, putting on a polite drawl, "I'm so glad you could make it. I hope your trip was…" But Draco was interrupted by the arrival of a bright yellow taxi…that was falling from the sky.

The flying coach landed on the lawn with an enormous WHUMPF! Little sparks were sailing from the engine and settling dangerously onto the grass. Smoke billowed out from under the hood and the driver stepped out, coughing. "Here we are, mam! That'll be seventeen sickles and uh," he scratched his head with a sooty hand, "We'll make it, three knuts!"

A woman stepped out of the smoking vehicle looking absolutely livid. "You won't get a single knut! You nearly killed us!" She coughed.

"Yeah," said the driver, looking confused, "I don't know why the wings just collapsed like that."

"Perhaps it was because this hunk of junk is so old," said a girl who had stepped out of the taxi after the first woman, smoothing down her long brown hair. "Just pay the man, mum!"

"I most certainly will not!"

"You must be Araminta Meliflua." Draco's mother, drawn to the catastrophe that had fallen from the sky into her front yard, had a gracious smile on her face that hid all trace of her contempt. Draco could see that his mother was struggling to be patient.

He stepped forward and put on his best smile as well. "Mrs. Meliflua," he greeted her and then turned to Ella. "Hello cousin."

Ella held out her hand for Draco to shake it. "Sorry about," she gestured lamely to smoldering wreck, her mother who was still arguing with the diver, and Mrs. Malfoy who was dousing several small fires on the lawn with her wand, "all this."

"Not at all," her turned her hand over and kissed it gently.

When he looked up, it was to see Ella's cheeks turn red with embarrassment. She was prettier than he had remembered her. Her hair was smoother and, perhaps it was the black dress robes she was wearing, but she seemed taller and her eyes seemed bluer. The robes fit her form and underneath them she wore a muggle skirt that poofed out slightly, away from her legs.

He looked around at the surrounding mob of guests who were staring openly at the spectacle. He leaned forward and muttered sarcastically into her ear, "I think you've made a good impression, Ella."

۞۞۞

A few hours after her arrival, Ella was still burning with embarrassment. All throughout her uncle's services that afternoon she felt as though se did not quite belong. The family seemed to want to avoid her and her mother so they could whisper among themselves and point. She had the distinct feeling of being an animal on display at the zoo.

Draco, however, was kind to her and was the only person who really treated her like family. After the funeral, he walked around the garden with her and introduced her to everyone who passed them by. They did not talk much as they strolled through the amazing gardens. Ella simply enjoyed looking at all the different flowers and the glossy lake in which swam two black swans. The short hedges that framed the path were festooned with black streamers that would fly loose every once and awhile to get tangled in a tree. It made Ella feel better to have him there beside her rather than across the expanse of grass like everyone else, whispering about her.

Draco did not usually speak unless he was introducing her to other guests and he appeared, to Ella, to be avoiding his mother's gaze. Every time the path turned and they grew closer to Mrs. Malfoy, Draco would redirect them.

"Is there a reason," asked Ella inquisitively, "Why you don't want to talk to your mother?"

Draco just smiled and said, "What are you talking about?" But, he could not keep away from her for long. Narcissa Malfoy, on her rounds through the maze of guests, finally caught up with her son.

"Draco," she said casually, looking sideways at Ella in a way that made Ella uneasy, "I wish to speak with you privately for a moment."

"I'm sorry mother," Draco replied, "But, I was just giving Ella a tour. Can't this wait?" He gave her a pointed stare. Ella tried not to lean in with her interest.

Narcissa stared back and Ella thought she could hear coldness in Mrs. Malfoy's voice as she said, "No, I'm afraid it can't." She moved forward cautiously and whispered, "She's here, isn't she?"

"No, mother," replied Draco through gritted teeth, "She is not!"

"She is; I know she is!"

"Well, this will just have to wait because I need to show Ella to her room. Excuse us." he grabbed Ella's arm and pulled her forward.

Ella felt slightly bewildered as she was drawn up the stone steps, through the oak doors draped with black and guarded by two grand lions, and through several halls that were identically decorated with black satin curtains. It was certainly a grand manner. The narrow hallway alone, in which they had stopped, was beautiful. But, Ella was not really looking at it.

"So," she said, "You _are _avoiding your mother."

"Maybe I am." Draco was out of breath.

"What does she want to talk to you about, anyway? Who is this 'she'?" Ella's curiosity was suddenly alive and burning.

"That is none of your business!" Draco snapped.

"Alright," she said, putting up her hands defensively, "But you can't hide forever."

"I'm not hiding!" exclaimed Draco, sounding childish for the first time that evening; more like the Draco he used to be.

"Sure." she said shortly.

"I'm not," he said more calmly, "I'm just not ready to talk about what she wants to talk about. What's it to you anyway?" When Ella raised her eyebrows at him he added a small, "Sorry." taking Ella by surprise.

"You've never apologized to me before!" she exclaimed admiringly, "Not ever!"

Draco shrugged, "People change, cousin," he looked a little sad.

Ella was just thinking that perhaps she had gone too far with her questions and that Draco had grown tired of her company when a small sound drifted from the floor to their ears. _Meow._

"What?" Ella looked around and then looked down to see a silver haired cat at her feet. "Well hello."

She bent down to stroke it, but Draco stopped her hand. "That's Lucifer," he said, "You don't want to pet him, trust me."

Lucifer was a thin cat with an amazingly rat-like tail that had been cut short. Although there was something wicked about his slanted eyes, he seemed like a nice cat. He was purring and rubbing Ella's legs contentedly.

"Why not?" she asked and bent down to pick him up.

Draco shrugged again and said, "Do you want to see your room now?"

"Yes, thank you," she stroked Lucifer's thin, bristly fur gently.

For a moment Draco frowned, he looked as though he was thinking very deeply about something. But, whatever it was, he put it aside and opened up the door behind him. It swung inward to reveal a pleasantly bright room with steely blue walls and white, translucent curtains covering the large window that stretched across the wall on the right. The bed itself was an iron four-poster that sat opposite a fire place and…

"Um, it's a really pretty room." said Ella, smiling politely, "But…"

"Yes?" asked Draco, raising his eyebrows.

"Do you think I could…get a different room?"

"Why?" he asked, entering the room and looking around.

"It's just…the mirror over there."

Draco looked up and smiled at his reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. "Oh, but I picked this room especially for you." he said, turning to face her, "It has the prettiest view. Is the mirror really going to be a problem?"

He looked curiously at her and Ella acquiesced grudgingly, "No, I'm sorry. This room will be fine. It's beautiful."

She dropped Lucifer onto the blue bedcovers and moved the curtains aside to look out of the window. Draco sat down next to the cat on the bed.

"Are you sure?" he asked, reaching over to pet the cat.

"Of course, I'm sorry, it's just that…"

"Fuck!" Draco swore loudly and jumped up, cradling his hand, "Damn that…"

Lucifer had whipped around with astonishing speed and scratched Draco brutally across the hand. Red blood dripped to the floor and Draco hastened to remove it with his wand. "See what I mean?" he said, attempting to mend his hand. The cat slinked off the bed and across the floor, hissing weirdly.

"He was perfectly nice to me," she said, confused as she pulled out her own wand and looked at Draco's wound.

"Are you going to use that?" he asked, looking into her face.

Ella blushed and pocketed her wand again, "No, I can't yet."

"Well," said Draco, turning to leave, "I hope you find everything comfortable. I won't see you at dinner, maybe afterwards though." He smiled at her and left the room.

_He really has gotten a lot nicer_, she thought, _it's amazing what two years of being on your own can do._

Ella looked over at Lucifer who was purring with his slanted eyes closed in front of the fire place and then at her reflection in the mirror above it. "I'll have to find an extra sheet to put over that," she told the silver cat, "I'll never get any sleep otherwise."

Lucifer opened one eye and mewed lazily.


End file.
